The Sword Mage Without A Path

Return Home 1

The forest was already growing dark by the time Fred and Lyra arrived at its edge.

The afternoon sun was casting long shadows over the trees. Fred's body was still recovering from the fight against the Horned Bear and he moved with less confidence. The same pain twisted in his chest at the wrong movement and his arms were leaden with fatigue from the fight.

He made no complaints.

It was not the first time in the last three days that he had been grateful for a bit of discomfort.

His sword was at his hip, cleaned as best he could manage, but with several fresh scratches marring the metal. He ran his fingers lightly over the sheath as they walked.

"You really like that sword," Lyra observed.

Fred glanced at her.

"It's important to me," he said simply.

"Because it's your first sword?"

"That's part of it."

Fred looked down at the weapon.

"I bought it myself," he added. "Nobody else chose it for me."

Lyra gave a small smile.

She understood what he meant.

Most things in Fred's life had been decided for him before he had had the chance to decide anything for himself. His family had their Paths and their magic and, even his ability (or lack thereof) to use it had been decided for him by a crystal before he had been given the chance to understand what a Path even was.

The sword was his own choice.

"I suppose that makes it special," Lyra said.

Fred nodded.

"It does."

They walked until the trees began to thin out. A wooden watchtower marked the beginning of the outer forest.

Fred walked through the gate.

Three days in the forest had made him more aware of danger.

Before this mission, he had thought of swordsmanship as something that required years of training to master.

He had imagined long hours of practice, studying proper form, learning to parry and lunge and the many other techniques that a proper swordsman was expected to know.

He now understood that a real fight was not like that.

A monster did not pause to let him ready himself.

It did not care if he was tired or if his movements were slow and careful.

It did not stop, not even when he made a mistake.

The Horned Bear would have killed him if he had made one wrong movement.

Fred glanced at Lyra.

She was walking beside him with quiet steps.

He still remembered the feel of the ground beneath his boots when she had appeared between him and the wolf. He could still feel the electricity in the air around her and the ease with which she had dispatched the monsters that had nearly killed him.

He could still remember the Horned Bear.

If it had not been for Lyra, he would not be alive.

Fred looked at his sword.

He had a long way to go.

"You're thinking about the fight again," Lyra said.

Fred looked at her.

"How did you know?"

"You've been staring at your sword for the last five minutes."

Fred blinked.

"I didn't realize."

Lyra smiled.

"You learned something important today."

"I learned that I'm weak."

She shook her head.

"That's not what I meant."

Fred frowned, but was quiet as she continued.

"You learned that being weaker than your opponent doesn't automatically mean losing."

Fred considered her words.

They reminded him of what his father had told him during his training.

A swordsman who understood his opponent could defeat him.

"I suppose you're right."

Lyra smiled.

They continued walking until they came to a fork in the road.

Lyra stopped.

"My home is this way."

Fred looked up the road the other way.

"I thought you lived near here."

"I do."

Something about her answer made Fred suspicious, but he decided not to press the issue.

He looked up at her.

"Will I see you again?"

Lyra smiled.

"Probably."

Fred frowned.

"Probably?"

"You'll see."

She turned away before looking back at him.

"Goodbye, Fred."

"Goodbye, Lyra."

She walked away.

Fred stood watching for a long moment.

He did not know who she really was.

He knew she was a powerful Yellow Path Mage, but there was something about her that made him feel as if he had only seen the surface.

Nevertheless, he was glad they had met.

Fred finally turned towards the Meyer estate.

The sun was already beginning to set when he arrived at the gates.

The guards immediately recognized him.

"Young Master Fred!"

One of them hurried over.

"You're back."

Fred nodded.

"Yes."

The guard's eyes immediately fell on his torn clothes.

"Should I call a healer?"

"My injuries aren't serious."

The guard looked unconvinced, but he opened the gate nonetheless.

Fred stepped inside.

He paused when he saw the training yard.

For a moment, he simply stood there.

This was where it had all begun.

When he had discovered he had no Path, he had come here and gotten a sword.

It had been an act of rebellion.

He had not known if he would be able to become strong, but he knew that he could not accept a life decided for him.

Now, he looked upon the training yard from the end of a three-day battle.

His rebellion no longer felt desperate.

It felt like the beginning of something.

Fred entered the house.

He had barely stepped into the hall when a familiar voice called out to him.

"Brother Fred!"

Nalia came running towards him.

Fred barely had the time to brace himself before she threw her arms around him.

"You're back!"

Fred smiled and ruffled her hair.

"I'm back."

She pulled away and immediately noticed his injuries.

"What happened?"

"Monsters."

"You fought monsters?"

"That's what hunting means."

Nalia's eyes went wide.

"Did you win?"

Fred smiled.

"Most of the time."

"What does that mean?"

Before he could answer, Narissa and Derek arrived.

Derek immediately looked at Fred's sword.

"Did you really fight monsters with that?"

"Yes."

"Was it scary?"

Fred paused.

He could have lied, but he decided against it.

"Sometimes."

Derek looked surprised.

"You're not supposed to be scared."

Fred laughed.

"Who told you that?"

Derek thought about it.

"I don't know."

Fred crouched until he was level with Derek's eyes.

"Being scared doesn't mean you can't fight."

Derek nodded seriously, as if Fred had just taught him some great lesson.

Narissa looked at the blood on Fred's sleeve.

"Mother is going to be worried."

Fred sighed.

"I know."

As if summoned by the statement, Sarah entered the hall.

Her eyes immediately landed on Fred.

"Fred."

"I'm fine, Mother."

Sarah walked towards him and examined his injuries.

"You've been fighting."

"Yes."

"And you thought coming home covered in blood was acceptable?"

Fred glanced down at his clothes.

"I didn't exactly plan it."

Sarah sighed.

"You are sixteen, not invincible."

"I know."

"Good. Then remember that."

Her tone softened as she touched his shoulder.

"Your father has been waiting for you."

Fred nodded.

"I'll see him."

He walked towards the study and knocked on the door.

"Come in."